


All the Way Home I'll Be Warm

by GottaGoBuyCheese



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: (at the start of each chapter...if I get around to writing more than one chapter lol), (more overtly i.e. more than an outsider referring to them as partners or husbands or something), (more overtly romantic chapters will be noted at the start of the chapter), (this semester is trying to kill me but bY SOMEONE I WILL MAKE IT TO DECEMBER IF I HAVE TO CRAWL), (very mildly in this fic), Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Angst, Crowley Has Acrophobia, EDIT: fine AO3. don't let me fix that typo. see if I care, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fictober 2019, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Whumptober 2019, did I really delete and retype all these tags to fix a typo? yes., tagging both relationships because most chapters can be interpreted either way, though honestly the chapters will probably be only loosely based on the prompts, will these tags FINALLY post in order after the 6th try? HOPEFULLY!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-03
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-11-22 23:13:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20882249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GottaGoBuyCheese/pseuds/GottaGoBuyCheese
Summary: A collection of usually unrelated ficlets based on the prompt lists for 2019. The table of contents will include a brief description of each chapter, so check inside to see if there's something specific you want to read, since I don't want to clog the main tags with highly specific stuff that only applies to one chapter. The TOC will be updated as we go along, and relevant warnings/tags will be included at the start of each chapter. Posting will be irregularly irregular, chapters will most likely go up well after their prompt day is over, and there's a decent chance I'll skip some prompts to get to the fun ones, since I'm only going to fall further behind.DAY 1: Shaky hands/"It will be fun, trust me."His hands tremble where they clutch the metal railing, and he wishes he remembered how to blink, because the vast sea of altocumulus crawling toward him is distracting him from the much nicer sensation of two warm hands enveloping his.“My dear,” says a soft voice in his ear, “I won’t let you fall.”(In other words, Aziraphale takes Crowley skydiving.)





	1. Table of Contents

Day 1 - Shaky Hands/ "It will be fun, trust me." 

  * Aziraphale takes Crowley skydiving. WARNINGS: None.


	2. Day 1 - Do It With Style

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Shaky hands/"It will be fun, trust me." 
> 
> Some time after the world doesn't end, Aziraphale finally convinces Crowley to go skydiving. Why humans take pleasure in chucking themselves out of weird flying machines and plummeting toward the ground, Crowley will never understand. Why _Aziraphale_ takes pleasure in it, when he can _actually fly_, Crowley will _definitely_ never understand. 
> 
> (Really, he won't. Ever. Stop pouting, angel.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: G  
Relationships: A&C or A/C (possibly leaning more towards A/C, but only because of (see end notes for spoilers))  
Warnings: None

“First jump?” shouts the girl in front of him, and Crowley deserves an award for not glaring her into a puddle of boiling sludge.

“His first, yes!” The booming voice in his ear makes him wince, but to be fair to Aziraphale, there’s no easy way to hold a conversation over someone else’s shoulder 14,000 feet above the ground in the aviatory equivalent of a tin can, so Crowley tilts his head obligingly. “A bit frightened of heights, this one, so it took some convincing, but due to some recent, erm, re-evaluation of our priorities, I was able to convince him to give it a go!”

The girl grins at them, her youthful face mirroring Aziraphale’s effervescent joy. A plump hand reaches into the frenzy of black curls sitting atop her head and pulls a pair of blue-framed goggles over her eyes. It doesn’t do anything to dim the enthusiasm shining in them, and Crowley stifles a growl. “That’s awesome, Mr. Fell!” To Crowley, she says, “You’re in the very best of hands, Anthony. Your husband is one of our most popular beginner instructors; everyone loves when he finds the time to drop by. And he’s been looking forward to bringing you for ages!”

“You don’t say,” Crowley mutters, and doesn’t need to turn around to imagine the wince on Aziraphale’s face.

“I am sorry for not mentioning it sooner, dear boy, but it will be _fun_, trust me!”

“You and I have vastly different ideas of the word ‘fun.’” He hopes the grumble is petulant enough to grind down the terrified edge in his voice to something more put-upon, more sarcastic, but judging by the warm weight settling firmly against his back, Aziraphale doesn’t buy it.

“When did you even find the time to get a skydiving license?” he asks instead. “Doesn’t seem like the sort of activity you normally go for.”

“Oh, well, I suppose it would look that way, from your perspective. It is a bit more, erm, _thrill-seeking_, than my typical hobbies. But truth be told, I . . . well, I’ve missed flying.” The quiet words fall from his lips like a confession, or maybe an apology, and the softness in his voice sounds too close to subdued guilt. Whatever it is makes Crowley reach back for Aziraphale’s hands before he can think twice, and he receives a grateful squeeze in return.

“This is hardly flying, angel,” Crowley drawls, kicking his legs out as far as they’ll go. Goggle Girl throws a miffed stare his way when his feet knock over her parachute. “It’s just . . . falling with style.”

Light laughter tinkles in his ears. “It’s not so bad, once you get used to it,” Aziraphale offers, and if the air in Crowley’s lungs leave him in a sudden rush, it’s because the angel is tightening the straps holding them together like a university student trying to cram six kilos worth of extra luggage into an overstuffed 56-by-45-by-25-centimeter carry on.

Crowley tries not to think about what it would take to get used to plummeting toward Earth’s surface at terminal velocity, and instead listens to Aziraphale chatter on with Goggle Girl as he manhandles them together. Every rumbling laugh reverberates through his ribs like it’s his own, every pleased hum a delightful buzz in his ears, until he’s flush against the angel’s chest with his eyes half-closed and his breathing even, wondering why he hadn’t agreed to this sooner.

It all comes crashing back when Goggle Girl gives him a two-fingered salute and disappears into the open sky.

Aziraphale’s cheeks are very noisy when he smiles. “All right, Crowley, us next!”

“Nguh.” It’s a good thing his heart is only ornamental, because he doesn’t know how to get it started again.

Before his soul can fully return to his body, Aziraphale somehow maneuvers them to the open doorway, a tiny, asymmetric window carved into the side of the tiny, asymmetric plane, and whatever little breath he still has is knocked loose at the sight of the boundless green countryside sprawling far beneath them. Dotted with tiny crystal-blue lakes and the occasional patch of human civilization, with swaths of pearl-white clouds interrupting the view, Crowley can’t tear his eyes away.

“Breathtaking, isn’t it?” Aziraphale says.

“Gnk,” Crowley replies, and wonders how the word earned such a positive connotation.

His hands tremble where they clutch the metal railing, and he wishes he remembered how to blink, because the vast sea of altocumulus crawling toward him is distracting him from the much nicer sensation of two warm hands enveloping his.

“My dear,” says a soft voice in his ear, “I won’t let you fall.”

_A bit late for that_ sits on the edge of his tongue, ready to dive off into the open air the way Goggle Girl had, but he bites it back long enough to manage a strangled sort of wheeze that, from anyone else, might sound something like: “I know.”

“On the count of three then. Are you ready?”

“Hng.”

“Goggles on?”

“Mm.”

“I won’t push you, my dear. I’m sure the pilot won’t mind taking us down the long way, if you prefer.”

“N-no, I — I want to. Do this. With you.” He still can’t blink, can’t swallow, can’t unfuse his fingers from the railing, but his traitorous heart picks up speed when Aziraphale rests his chin on his shoulder, so that’s one problem solved.

“And I’m very excited to share this with you.” The gentle murmur is a puff of warm air against his ear, and Crowley’s eyes finally fall shut.

“M’kay.” He steels himself, drums his fingers against the steel rods to shake out the last of his jitters. “Okay.”

“Ready?”

“Y — sh — if you — geh, whatever. Sure.”

“Count of three, then, all right?”

“Mhm.”

“All right. One . . . two . . .”

Just enough of a bastard to be worth liking, but only just.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Spoiler: an outsider refers to them as husbands, and neither of them disputes it, much like in the show. Take it how you will, I like both versions) 
> 
> I realize this first day isn't very angsty, especially for something called “Whumptober,” but looking at the other prompts, there's a good chance for other things to be angsty to make up for it! Hope this is okay.
> 
> (Not gonna lie, I'm very tempted to see a fleshed out human!AU of this, but considering a) this is highly specific and I don't know if anyone other than me would read it; b) this is shaping up to be one of those Hell Semesters; c) still working on a long-overdue commission; and d) real life problems are Dumb but unfortunately Real, this will probably not happen. At least not by me. You, on the other hand, my dear mystery reader, are more than welcome to run with it!) 
> 
> Anyway, if you read this far, thank you so much for your time! I'd really, really love it if you let me know what you thought; comments keep me afloat in these trying times. Hope the rest of the year goes well for you!
> 
> (And internet cookies to anyone who catches the reference in this chapter!)

**Author's Note:**

> Table of Contents will be updated as we continue.


End file.
